


All this time wasted

by milk_o_vich



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Childhood Friends, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, but also not really, kind of slow burn, there might be smut in the second part but idk yet, there's a bit of smut in the first chapter but veeery very very light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 09:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milk_o_vich/pseuds/milk_o_vich
Summary: Isak is quiet again. The truth is, he’s scared of sleeping in a bed with another boy. He isn’t sure why. It makes a strange sort of anxiety rise up in his chest; an inexplicable worry that he’ll do something wrong or embarrass himself in some way.But this isn’t just another boy. This is Even. And things with Even always feel a little different to things with any of his other friends.





	All this time wasted

**Author's Note:**

> ahfjsffs okay so i haven't written a fic in over a year and now i've just written a ratttther long two-parter in the span of two days. go figure!!  
> huge thanks to aurora (universe-waiting-patiently on tumblr) for listening to me ramble and being so sweet and patient and giving me her ideas <3 i love you

**The Wish**

Aged 6

 

It’s one of the earliest memories Isak has.

He’s surrounded by his family and friends - his mum, dad, sister; Jonas, Magnus, Mahdi and Even are there, too. They’re all singing _Happy Birthday_ as Isak’s mum brings his cake over to him. Her face is illuminated by the golden light from all six candles standing on the cake. It kind of makes her look like a princess, like one of the ones from Lea’s favourite movies. The ones Isak pretends he doesn’t really like.

“Make a wish, darling,” his mum whispers as she presses a kiss to his temple, setting the cake down in front of him.

Isak looks around the room and thinks long and hard about what he wants to wish for. Lea is stood beside him, bouncing up and down with excitement, telling him to get on with it.

But the thing is, Isak doesn’t really know what he wants. Maybe a Playstation 2, like Even has. But then again, if he had his own playstation, he wouldn’t have to go around to Even’s house whenever he wanted to play a game. He kind of likes that part even more than the video games themselves.

He could wish for a new race car. Maybe a dog - he’s always wanted one, but his mum has never let him. Yeah, a dog would be good.

Isak looks up and as he does he sees Even beaming at him, taller than his other friends, his yellow party hat lopsided and sitting on top of his wiley, messy blonde hair. Isak feels his cheeks get red before he closes his eyes and takes a big intake of breath, and then --

Before he knows it, Lea’s swooped in before him, blowing all the candles out herself. Isak doesn’t even get a chance to protest before everyone is clapping, apparently unaware of what just happened.

His mouth is open and he stutters, but his mother is already taking the cake away from him and cutting it into slices for everyone else.

Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Jonas says that birthday wishes aren’t real; it was just a bunch of dumb candles.

Isak squashes the disappointment, which is quickly forgotten when it’s announced that it’s time to open presents. At least Lea can’t take _those_ away from him.

 

*

 

Later, when the party is nearly finished, Isak waits for his parents to finish saying goodbye to the grown-ups. He’s kind of sad that the party is ending, but also wants to play with his brand new presents.

He’s about to ask his mum whether she has any batteries for the new race car Jonas got him when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and sees Even, grinning brightly at him.

“Oh,” Isak says, grinning back. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Even says. He’s a bit taller than Isak, and a little bit older, too - a whole different _year_ group. “Follow me,” he says.

Isak feels his face smile and excitement bubbles inside his tummy like it’s the first day of the summer holidays. He follows Even into - into the kitchen, of all places, where Even rummages around in the drawers and grabs something from inside them.

Isak gasps. “Even, my mummy says not to touch those. Matches are _dangerous_.”

Even doesn’t seem to register what Isak’s saying. He’s searching the kitchen some more, opening the fridge and cupboards and another drawer before finally saying “Okay, close your eyes.”

Isak frowns. “Why?”

“Just do it!” Even says, giggling. “And no cheating!”

Isak giggles too, closing his eyes. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

The flick of a match later and then he hears Even say, “Open your eyes.”

Even is standing in front of Isak, grinning, a slice of cake cupped in his hand with a lit candle standing precariously on top.

Isak lets out a laugh. “What’s that?”

“Your wish!” Even says, grinning, pushing Isak’s shoulder. “Come on. Make one.”

“Okay,” Isak says seriously. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and thinks hard.

This feels like a more important wish, somehow. Like it really matters. And suddenly Isak’s a little bit scared, because it’s a lot of pressure. He wants to get this wish _right_ , because Even has made it especially for him.

The wish itself comes more easily than Isak thought it would. He huffs in more air, puffing out his cheeks, and blows the candle out.

Even is staring at him with a big, toothless grin. “What did you wish for?” he asks.

Isak just frowns, pushing Even. “I can’t tell you that, or it won’t come true!”

Even doesn’t pry like Magnus would, and he doesn’t roll his eyes like Jonas would do. Instead he just smiles even bigger and says, “Wanna go outside?”

Isak grins. “Sure,” he says. And, like always, he follows where Even goes.

 

* * *

 

**It’s okay**

Aged 9

He’s in the car on the way back from school with Even and Even’s dad.

They’ve got this new game where they pretend they’re in epic car chases, looking out the car windows and pointing their finger guns at all the cars going past.

Except today it’s a bit tricky, because they’re stuck in traffic and it really isn’t fun shooting at cars when they are going as slow as these ones are.

They’ve resorted to play fighting with each other; Even has Isak in a headlock and is ruffling his hair, and Isak is squealing and laughing, then grabs his water bottle and squirts Even with water.

“Enough, boys,” Even’s dad says warningly.

By the time they reach Even’s house - which is about one minute away from Isak’s - it’s clear to see why there was so much traffic.

“Look, an ambulance!” says Isak excitedly, peeking out of the window at the blue lights.

“And police!” says Even, pointing to the cars on his side.

Even’s dad, however, doesn’t seem as excited. He undoes his seatbelt and opens the car door, stepping outside with a quick and serious, “Stay in the car, boys.”

Even frowns, pressing his nose to the car window in an attempt to see what’s going on. “Is that your dad?” he says.

“Yeah,” Isak says slowly, craning his neck to try and get a better view. “He’s talking to your dad.” He turns to Even. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Even says quietly.

Isak opens the car door.

“Isak, don’t! My dad said not to!”

Isak steps out of the car anyway, and he only has to walk a little bit past the commotion to see what’s going on.

Isak’s mum is standing at her bedroom window, a pile of broken furniture splintered on the road below her. She looks different. Her hair is messy and her eyes look wide and scary, and she grabs a chair and hurls it out of the window. It’s the chair Isak likes to sit at when he does his homework.

Isak doesn’t hear what she’s saying - is whisked away too quickly by Even’s dad - but he hears something about devils and Gods, and it scares him enough to let him be carried back to the car.

He doesn’t really know what to say. Even is sat beside him, asking him if he’s okay. And Isak just sniffles a bit, tries to be a big boy, but it’s hard not to cry.

“It’s okay,” Even says quietly, unbuckling his seatbelt to wriggle towards Isak and put an arm around his shoulder. “It’ll be alright.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Is it gay to cuddle with your best friend?**

Aged 13

 

He doesn’t know when it got so hard to sleep.

Maybe it was when his mum started acting crazy. Maybe it was when he began realising - more and more - that he didn’t see girls the same way Jonas and the other guys did. Maybe it was when his dad lost his job. Maybe it was a combination of all those things.

It’s 3AM and Isak only knows one person who’ll probably be awake at this time. Even gets even less sleep than Isak does; seems to be awake all the time, eyes sharp and attentive to every little thing in the world. Not like Isak. Isak spends most of his time awake but tired; gets yelled at by teachers for sleeping in class and has the piss taken out of him by the boys for never paying attention to what they’re saying. Regardless, Even will be awake, and Isak just wants someone to talk to right now.

 

Even

3:33AM

**Isak**

Yo

You awake

**Even**

No. Texting this in my sleep

**Isak**

Funny guy

Can I come over and game for a bit?

**Even**

Sure

Are you going to tell you mum where you’re going?

**Isak**

I’ll leave a note

See you in a bit

  


As it turns out, gaming on an hour of sleep means you lose. Badly.

Of course, Isak blames the controller - Even gave him the shitty one, with the buttons that have been sticky ever since Magnus spilled red bull all over them - but he can’t deny, however secretly, that he probably lost because he isn’t superhuman like Even. Maybe it’s the new ADHD medication his doctor prescribed him that has given Even the ability to stay awake and alert through every damn thing.

Isak yawns. They’re sat on bean bags in Even’s room, hoodies up and on, the light from the TV screen making Isak’s eyes itch.

“Are you tired?” Even whispers.

“Mm,” Isak murmurs.

“Did you want to go to bed?”

“No,” Isak says quickly, frowning. “I don’t want to go home.”

“I didn’t mean home,” Even says quietly. “You can sleep here.”

Isak’s quiet for a while. Mulls over the idea before saying, “Okay.”

They haven’t had a sleepover in a long time - they live so close to each other that Isak usually just walks home whenever they’re done hanging out - but right now, the thought of going home is just that little bit too much, and the thought of staying with Even is just that little bit too tempting.

“I’ll, uh, sleep on the floor,” Isak says awkwardly.

“It’s okay,” Even says, getting up. “We can sleep in my bed. Like when we were little.”

Isak is quiet again. The truth is, he’s scared of sleeping in a bed with another boy. He isn’t sure why. It makes a strange sort of anxiety rise up in his chest; an inexplicable worry that he’ll do something wrong or embarrass himself in some way.

But this isn’t just another boy. This is Even. And things with Even always feel a little different to things with any of his other friends.

“Okay,” Isak says eventually, and he shucks off his shoes and climbs into Even’s bed.

He lies as far away from Even as possible, lying kind of rigidly and uncomfortably. He doesn’t want to give the wrong impression here, and he’s kind of relieved when Even just picks up his controller and starts playing games again. Like nothing about this is weird. It allows Isak to drift off next to him to the sound of explosions and gunfire and dramatic, over-the-top music. Which really shouldn’t be soothing - and maybe it isn’t, maybe he’s just that tired - but sleep comes easily regardless.

When Isak wakes up, everything is silent. The TV is still on, but the game is paused. Isak is vaguely aware that he isn’t lying in the same position he fell asleep in, but he’s too comfortable to care. It’s only when he feels a hand on his shoulder that he jerks awake properly.

“It’s okay,” comes Even’s voice. Quiet and soft and a little gritty from sleep.

Isak looks up. He’s got his head resting on Even’s chest, arms curled around him, even has one of his legs looped over one of Even’s. He immediately wants to pull away - to laugh it off, dismiss it as embarrassing and stupid - wants to tell Even he was dreaming of Angelina Jolie or whichever celebrity the guys were crushing on right now.

He was going to do all of that. But the way Even is looking at Isak makes him second guess himself. His face is gentle, eyes soft, scanning Isak in a way that makes him feel both scrutinised and comforted at the same time. Even’s hand is on Isak’s back, keeping him in place, gentle enough for Isak to wriggle free if he wanted to but firm enough to tell him that Even doesn’t want him to.

Isak swallows hard, suddenly aware of his body; from his curls tickling Even’s chin to the toes brushing against Even’s ankle. He’s aware of all of it.

“Stay,” Even whispers softly.

Isak looks up at him, too tired to talk and scared that if he _does_ try to talk his voice will be nothing but a squeak. Instead, Isak nods, and nuzzles down into the best sleep he’s had in a while.

It takes him a full day to really freak out about what happened that night. But by the time Isak has finished up at school and is back home, he opens up his computer and goes onto google.

_Is it gay to cuddle with your best friend?_

The answer, Isak gathers, is maybe.

Well, fuck.

* * *

 

**7 minutes in heaven**

Aged 14

 

Girls like Even. There’s no denying it; Isak sees the way their eyes trail him up and down, how they twirl their hair and go all red and giggly when he talks to them. It makes sense. Even is funny, and he’s smart and interesting and listens to what everyone has to say. People love him, and Isak gets it.

He’s also not bad to look at.

As in, Isak gets why _girls_ would like Even. He’s tall and lean and has those eyes and those _lips_ and -- yeah, Isak gets it.

The thing is, though, Even so clearly likes girls too. He’s made out with countless ones - Magnus and Jonas see him as some kind of God - and Isak sees how Even’s gaze lingers on the hot ones in a way Isak wishes he could understand.

But the truth is, Isak just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get the appeal with girls. He’s tried looking at all the girls he knows he _should_ find attractive and attempted to force himself to find them hot. Point out to himself their legs or boobs or butts or whatever. But it just doesn’t do anything for him.

That doesn’t mean he can’t pretend, though. Isak is the master of pretending.

They’re at this dumb party the new girl invited them to. Her name is Vilde, and she’s kind of annoying - too chatty and forceful and just overall grating to be around - but they had no other plans and Magnus practically dragged them to it.

“Isn’t she cool?” Magnus is saying, nodding towards Vilde.

“She talks too much,” Mahdi says, taking another sip of beer.

“Nah, but like, she just has a lot to say. I like it,” Magnus says.

“Alright, everyone!” Vilde chirps, clapping her hands to silence the twenty-something people in the room. “Sit down! In a circle!”

Isak groans, really not in the mood for truth or dare or whatever, but then he catches Even’s eye from across the room and he can’t help but smiling. Especially when Even raises his eyebrows and rolls his eyes a little.

“Okay, this is a game my mum played when she went to university in _America_ ,” Vilde says, sandwiching herself between two pretty girls who look like they don’t want to be there. “It’s called seven minutes in heaven. Someone spins the bottle, and whoever it lands on, they have to go into my bedroom for seven minutes _with_ them. What they do in there is up to them! Maybe kiss, or more, or just talk. Although that would be a bit boring. Everyone understand?”

“I thought your mum went to university in France?” one of the pretty girls says.

Vilde blinks. “Yes, well, she did, but that was for her postgraduate degree.” She coughs. “Everyone ready?”

There’s a disgruntled and disinterested chorus of agreement as Vilde is the first to spin the bottle. Magnus looks about ready to burst, but the bottle narrowly misses him and lands on Mahdi instead. Isak bursts out laughing and Jonas claps, patting Mahdi on the back as he stands up. Mahdi flips them off before following Vilde to her bedroom, leaving Magnus looking a bit deflated.

By the time it’s Isak’s turn to play, he’s actually kind of glad Vilde suggested this game. The game itself is incredibly stupid, but he’s gotten a good laugh watching Magnus return from his seven minutes looking dazed and happy, and clapped Jonas on the back when he scored seven minutes with a pretty auburn-haired girl called Eva.

This is, in a weird way, where Isak feels most comfortable. He doesn’t feel that out of place, even though a part of him knows he should. That any gratification Isak gets from his seven minutes with a girl is just pretend. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? Because it’s just a stupid game.

But then Isak’s spinning the bottle and it doesn’t actually land on a girl at all.

It lands on Even.

His heart sinks as he looks up towards Even, trying to decide how he’ll play this. He’d laugh, but Even is looking at him relatively nonplussed; in fact, he _shrugs_ and looks like he’s about to stand up before Vilde yanks him down.

“Don’t be silly! Sit back down! Spin again, Isak.”

Isak reaches for the bottle, but before he does, Even says, “Why does he have to spin again?”

Isak wants to die. Like right there. Let the earth swallow him up and chew him into tiny little pieces.

Vilde scoffs, and a few of the people around her do, too. “Well, you can’t go in there with _Isak_!”

Even just stares at her. “Why not?”

“Because - because - well, it’s a bit _gay_ , isn’t it?” she asks. “Won’t you worry what we all think?”

“I don’t care what you think. And don’t you think that’s a bit homophobic?” Even says.

The room is silent. Vilde is just staring at him. “Well, no,” she says, coughing. “I just mean you and Isak aren’t gay, so.”

“You don’t know that,” Even says flatly. “I could be.”

“ _Are_ you?!” Vilde asks, voice high.

“No,” Even says.

Vilde blinks. “Well, then, I--”

Even gets up. “Come on, Isak,” he says.

And, well, Isak gets up on numb feet and with pounding heart, and he follows.

*

“Sorry about that,” Even says when they’re finally alone together.

“It’s okay,” Isak says quietly.

“No,” Even says seriously. “I shouldn’t have said that in front of all those people. Not when you were involved too.”

“It’s fine,” Isak says again. He smiles, just a little, to let Even know he means it. “Everyone knows you’re into your social justice. I don’t care what they think, anyway.”

It’s a lie, but Isak can’t think about that for long. Not when Even smiles as their eyes meet.

Isak isn’t sure when Even started looking so _tired_ . He’s still beautiful - he’s _Even_ , for fucks sake - but his hair is a little greasy and he has dark circles around his eyes, and he looks older than his fifteen years.

“Fun party,” Even says, grinning.

Isak scoffs. “Yeah,” he says. “Fucking hell.”

Everything falls into a heavy sort of silence, and Isak is suddenly aware of what they could be doing right now. Given the game and all.

He stares at his drink. He can’t bring himself to look at Even; is scared what will happen if he lets himself have more glances than he’s allowed. He watches the bubbles in his beer float up and up, counting each one as they burst on the surface.

He feels Even’s hand on his face and his heart pounds louder than it ever has before. It’s in his ears, his stomach, the tips of his fingers; his heartbeat plays as loud as a drum as Even pushes a hand through Isak’s hair, gently sweeping his curls away from his eyes.

Isak still can’t look at Even. Can only huff out a small laugh when Even says, “You need a haircut.”

He hates that his face is probably betraying him. He hates that his cheeks are probably red and that his breath is shaky and that his voice is failing him.

He also hates that he really, really wants Even to kiss him.

Which is ridiculous, because Even sees him as a friend. Or a little brother. Definitely not as someone he’d like to kiss, and he’ll probably be freaked out if he finds out what Isak is thinking right now. It’d stop all the playful touches, the hugs, the jokes and the late night hang outs. It would taint everything; would make Even uncomfortable and feel like he couldn’t just _be_ with Isak, which is the last thing Isak wants.

Because having Even as a friend is the most important thing, even if they are _just_ friends. Knowing Even is a privilege, no matter the way in which Isak knows him. And Isak doesn’t really understand why the word “friends” is always preceded by the word “just” whenever he thinks about Even. Like anything with Even can be “just” that.

Even’s hand is on the back of Isak’s neck now and moves slowly towards Isak’s jaw. The trail of Even’s fingers feel electric, numbing Isak until it’s all he can do to just breathe. And then Even is tilting Isak’s chin up, and finally, Isak lets himself look.

Even’s eyes are warm and gentle. He’s smiling, and Isak can’t help but smile, too. His heart is still loud and his breath is still shaky but gone are the feelings of worry. Because Even is looking at Isak, and Isak is looking back, and suddenly, Isak realises that maybe - just maybe - they both want this.

The bedroom door bursts open and all the tension breaks; Isak and Even jump away from each other just as Vilde hurdles in declaring that their seven minutes is up.

And like that, the moment is broken; the worries return, and Isak can’t even _look_ at Even, is too embarrassed, so just mumbles something indistinct before returning to the room of people and spinning the bottle again.

He ends up locked in Vilde’s room with a girl called Sara, who he makes out with for a little while just to feel normal again.

It doesn’t work. If anything, Isak has never felt less normal in his life.

At least he can claim she took her bra off, which distracts the guys enough from asking questions about what he and Even got up to when they were alone.

One thing's for sure, though. Isak doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to see Even in the same way again.

 

* * *

 

**What do you think?**

Aged 15

 

“I’m just saying, she’s into you, man!” Mahdi says, pulling his football shirt over his head and nudging Jonas in the ribs.

“Eva? Nah. She’s into that Penetrator Chris guy.”

“Penetrator Chris,” Even scoffs. “Who calls themself _Penetrator_?”

“The Penetrators, apparently,” Jonas says.

The conversation is teetering dangerously close to one of Jonas and Even’s rants about consumerism and capitalism, and maybe Magnus senses it, too, because he jumps in before either of them can get a word in.

“What about you, Mahdi? Got your eye on anyone?”

“Nah,” says Mahdi, shoving his trainers into his gym bag. “There’s a girl at church, but I don’t think she’s into me. Plus, she’s like, 23. You should ask Even, though,” he adds with a smirk.

Isak’s stomach drops, looking from Mahdi to Even. “What?”

Even frowns. “Yeah, _what_?”

“Oh come on, man! You and Sonja? You’ve been flirting all month!”

Even wrinkles his nose. “Nah, we haven’t.”

“Okay, maybe _you_ haven’t been flirting with _her_ , but _she’s_ definitely been flirting with _you_ ,” Mahdi says.

“Oh?” Magnus asks, raising his eyebrows. “What does she look like?”

“Ugh, smoking hot, man,” Mahdi says.

Isak can’t help feeling something sink inside him. He knows he should probably just stay quiet, or ask for more details on this Sonja girl along the lines of her looks and shit, but he just can’t.

“Are you going to ask her out, then?” Isak asks quietly, eyes meeting Even’s briefly. The hurt is threatening to seep into his voice, so Isak coughs, pulling his shirt off and ignoring how his cheeks go a little pink under Even’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” Even says. He’s addressing the group - Isak knows this - but he can’t help noticing how Even looks directly at him when he stands taller, shirt off, and says, “Do you think I should?”

Isak shrugs. “Yeah,” he says. Smiles briefly, stealing a glance at Even’s torso because, quite frankly, he can’t help it. His eyes travel from Even’s collarbones to the toned muscles at his stomach and the way his hip bones protrude a little, just above his waistband. Isak throws his shirt on then adds, “You should do whatever you want.”

 

* * *

 

 

 **Join me**   
Aged 16

 

**Magnus**

Guess what guys

Even got laaaaid!!!!

 

**Jonas**

We know

 

**Mahdi**

Yeah yesterday

 

**Magnus**

What??

@Even was i the last one to find out?????

 

**Isak**

I didn’t know

**Mahdi**

We only knew because we were there

 

**Magnus**

WHAT

 

**Mahdi**

No you perv

Like at the party

 

**Magnus**

Ohhhh

Still!!! First one to lose his v plates

Congrats my man

 

**Even**

Haha

Thanks Mags

 

Isak’s about to throw his phone across the room when there’s a knock on his bedroom window. He doesn’t need to look to know it’s Even.

The thing is, he’s not in the mood. He’s rarely been in the mood to see Even recently. Just finds himself getting irritated with him more and more, especially when he talks about Sonja and how great she is.

It’s fine. Isak gets it: Even is straight. Message received. He doesn’t need to rub it in Isak’s face all the time.

Even knocks again and Isak sighs, getting up. He opens the window without really looking at Even, mumbling a hello as Even clambers in.

“Sorry, I’m really tired,” Isak says. “What’s up?”

Isak really, really doesn’t want to hear about all the fantastic sex Even has been having with Sonja.

“I’m going to a party,” Even says. “Join me?”

Isak frowns, looking at Even, whose bouncing on his heels and raising his eyebrows.

“No, I’m tired,” Isak says again.

Even rolls his eyes. “It’ll be _fun_ , come on. That girl you were talking about will be there.”

Even purses his lips and studies Isak for a second. Isak simply shrugs. “I see her every day at school, so.”

They’re quiet for a while, and despite not really wanting to know, Isak still asks: “Fun with Sonja?”

Even shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, it was nice.”

Isak can’t help but scoff and mimics Even’s deep voice. “ _Yeah, it was nice_.”

Even laughs and shoves Isak. “Fuck you, what do you want me to say? It was sex. It was good.”

Isak smiles, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and warmth run through him.

“Come on, Isak. Come to the party.”

“Nah,” Isak says. “Have fun, though.”

Even studies Isak some more, still bouncing a bit, full of an energy that Isak can’t quite muster at two in the morning. Then, he says, “I could stay here instead?”

Isak chews his lip. He’d like that. He really, really would. It isn’t easy to say no to Even; in fact, it’s almost impossible. But Isak feels a little hurt, and he genuinely isn’t in the mood to party, and even Even’s eyes and the way he’s looking at Isak isn’t persuading him to go.

Maybe he was wrong before. Sure, maybe he and Even can’t be ‘just’ anything. Even isn’t just a friend or just a crush. He will never be a ‘just’ in Isak’s life.

But what _can_ they be, when it hurts this much to look at him?

“I’m just going to sleep, so,” Isak says finally.

Even nods. His face falls, and _God_ , it kills Isak.

“Okay,” Even says finally. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Yeah.” Isak nods, looking at his feet, before moving to hold the window open for Even as he clambers out and onto the street below.

 

* * *

 

 

**Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy**

Aged 17

 

Isak and the guys aren’t as close to Even as they used to be.

It isn’t just the Sonja thing, although it’s no secret that Sonja doesn’t like Even hanging out them.

But Even’s been missing school a lot, and he’s been hanging out with different people. He’s got exams, the end of school is looming, and being a year older has really started to separate him from the rest of the group.

The bass from the speakers is so loud that Isak can feel it in his toes. He steps outside from the party and closes his eyes, enjoying the cool air on his face. It’s a welcome escape from the hot, sweaty box of a house he’s been in for the last few hours.

He’s failing to light his cigarette when someone steps in and offers him a lighter.

“Oh,” Isak says, a little surprised. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Even says, holding the flame to the end of Isak’s cigarette and lighting it for him.

They’re quiet for a while. It isn’t a comfortable silence - it’s loaded and awkward and full of unsaid things. Isak hates the fact that it’s gotten to this. Since when did he and Even act like this around each other?

“Enjoying the party?” Isak asks.

Even nods, leaning back against the wall with his own cigarette in his mouth. He turns and looks at Isak, eyes bright and blue and blazing.

Isak swallows. “How’ve you been?” he asks, voice cracking.

Even takes a long, deep drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke out slowly. He shakes his head. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of stress going on at the moment.”

Isak looks at him. “Like what?”

“Like…” Even runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t fucking know. School and shit. I kind of want to drop out.”

Isak scoffs. “What does Sonja think of that?”

“Fuck her,” Even says. “I’m done with her.”

“You’ve broken up?” Isak asks, unable to hide the hope in his voice.

Even shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says.

Isak nods, not really wanting to talk about Sonja unless Even really wants to. He leans back against the wall and looks up at the stars that glitter above them. It’s a clear night; cold in the best of ways. He can hear the music behind him and the murmuring of the crowd inside, but out here, everything feels completely still.

He doesn’t know when it registers, but he soon becomes aware of Even’s hand and how close it is to his own. Their little fingers are lined up against each other perfectly, and before Isak can move his hand away or brush it off as an accident, Even moves his hand to cover Isak’s.

Isak swallows, still, not really sure what to do. Then, slowly but surely, he locks their fingers together.

Isak looks down at their hands linked with one another. His heart is pounding like it was when they played seven minutes in heaven, but it isn’t as loud as it was back then.

Isak lets his fingers explore Even’s hand a bit; lets them brush over the back of his knuckles, down to the rough skin on his wrist, before locking their fingers together again.

It just feels right. Locked together with Even.

“I’ve missed you,” Isak says. It just slips out, almost unconsciously.

He turns to face Even and smiles softly at him, a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I know we’ve grown apart recently, and it’s stupid, because--”

Isak’s voice drifts away. Even is getting closer, moving with purpose, and his eyes are dazzling and sparkling with stars, and Isak can’t help but look at them, then at Even’s lips, and then --

There's a rumbling of footsteps and a few people stumble out of the house, clutching wine bottles and beer cans. They're laughing, completely oblivious to Isak and Even leaning on the wall metres away from them.

It doesn't matter that they didn't see them. Doesn't matter that Isak and Even are still holding hands; the moment is gone. 

Isak coughs. "We should probably go inside," he says quietly.

"Mm," Even hums.

Isak looks at his shoes, then at their hands. He's known these hands for so long; can't believe he's never held them properly before. 

"Isak," Even says quietly.

Isak looks up.

"Isak, I've missed you too."

It's Isak who moves forward this time. Closes his eyes, leans in, and kisses Even with everything he has.

Isak is numb. It takes him a little while to register what’s happening. Their hands are still interlocked, but Even has brought them up to rest against Isak’s cheek now.

It’s heaven. It’s the best kiss he’s had in his life; it’s gentle and warm, even though their noses are cold. Even tastes of beer and cigarettes, but it’s perfect because it’s Even that tastes like this. Warming Isak up from the inside out. And Isak doesn’t need to hold back anymore. Just kisses and kisses, hand in Even's hair, relishing in just how good this feels. 

Anyone could walk up to them right now, and Isak wouldn't even realise.

“Fuck,” Isak murmurs when they pull apart to catch their breath.

Even rests his forehead against Isak’s, and Isak hasn’t seen him smile like this since they were kids.

“I’ve wanted us to do that for forever,” Even says.

Isak simply beams before bringing Even’s lips back to his. Where they should always be.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Even whispers.

“Where?” Isak asks.

“Anywhere,” Even replies.

 

*

 

‘Anywhere’ turns out to be Even’s place. His parents are away and they can’t exactly go to Isak’s house, seeing as his dad just moved back in and is trying to play happy families with Isak’s mum again.

They end up on Even’s bed, watching shitty movies and smoking weed, smiling and kissing and holding each other.

It’s perfect.

“Remember when we first tried smoking?” Even asks, tracing a pattern on Isak’s shoulder. “We were leaning out of your bedroom window and took it in turns with one of those cigarette ends we’d found on the street?”

Isak bursts out laughing. “Fucking hell, I’d forgotten about that.”

“And you said you’d smoked a thousand times before. But when we tried it properly, you kept coughing,” Even said, grinning, looking down at Isak.

“Fuck you!” Isask laughs, slapping Even’s chest playfully. “I only coughed because that stupid cigarette had - had gravel in it - from the ground or something.”

“Gravel?” Even grins.

“Yeah. From the ground,” Isak finishes feebly.

Even just smiles and pulls Isak closer, kissing his forehead, nose, cheek, mouth. They kiss lazily, and Isak can’t quite believe how good it feels to do this with someone else. To kiss so openly, with no inhibitions.

It’s the best feeling in the world.

 

*

 

“How’s your mum?” Even asks quietly.

Isak shrugs. “Still crazy,” he says. “Why?”

Even doesn’t say anything for a long time. So long, in fact, that Isak’s about to suggest they get up and make food.

But then Even says, very quietly, “Sometimes I think I’m going crazy.”

Isak frowns. “What do you mean?”

Even sniffs, then lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. “I don’t know,” he says. “It’s just a thought I have sometimes.”

When Isak says nothing - just looks at Even - Even continues.

“It’s like my thoughts happen before I can even catch up with them. Like my mind is too fast for my brain,” Even explains. “Sometimes I feel like I’m on top of the world, then I feel like I’m...I don’t know.”

Isak strokes Even’s cheek, then smirks. “I think you’ve smoked too much weed.”

Even huffs out a laugh and kisses Isak’s forehead again. “Yeah, probably. Let’s order pizza.”

“But...Even,” Isak says, sitting up in bed and looking at him seriously.

“Mm?”

“Don’t go crazy,” Isak says quietly.

Even swallows. “What do you mean?”

“I just...promise me you won’t.” Isak shakes his head. “Between my mum and everything else, if I lost you too, I don’t…” He shrugs. “I don’t what I’d do.”

Even looks at Isak for a minute, silent, face unreadable. Eventually he smiles.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Even says. “I promise.”

 

* * *

 

**The best summer**

Aged 17

It’s the best summer of Isak’s life.

He spends almost every day with Even, doing the most brilliantly mundane things. Having barbecues, reading, swimming in the lake, camping out in their gardens like they did when they were kids.

It’s a summer of long, stretched out days that tiptoe quietly into night. Of kissing under trees and lying in tall blades of grass. Reading to each other, laughing with each other, _being_ with one another.

It’s perfect in every way, and Isak has never been this happy in his whole life. Everything has slotted together and aligned in the best of ways, and they are free to be with one another, in every single sense of the word.

One evening, they’re lying on a picnic blanket. Even’s shirt is open and Isak can’t stop kissing the taste of strawberries off his lips.

Even pulls back a little, and Isak chases his lips with his own, wanting more. Always more.

But Even gently pulls Isak’s hair, just enough that Isak stays in place and looks at Even with heavy-lidded eyes.

“I think I love you,” Even whispers quietly, moving his hand to stroke Isak’s cheek. “I think I always have.”

Isak takes Even’s hand in his own and kisses it gently before smiling against it. “I think I love you too.”

Even kisses Isak, teeth against teeth as they grin stupidly against each other. Every fibre of Isak’s being is charged and electric, and he feels more than he’s ever felt when Even’s hand moves from the back of his neck to the small of his back, then pulls on his shorts to try and get rid of them.

“Is this okay?” Even whispers against Isak’s lips, pushing Isak’s boxers down, but Isak is nodding and shutting him up with a kiss before Even can even finish the question.

“Yeah,” Isak says when they pull apart, burying his face in the crook of Even’s neck as Even’s hands explore some more. “It’s perfect.”

 

*

 

Two weeks before the end of summer, Even and his family leave to go on their annual summer vacation.

It sucks, because it means Even will be gone for six whole weeks and Isak will only get to see him through video calls.

He’s kissing Even like there’s no tomorrow, pouting and telling him to stay. At one point, he resorts to throwing Even’s luggage out of his suitcase as Even tries to pack it all away.

“Don’t go,” Isak says again.

“Baby,” Even says fondly. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m there.”

Isak pouts, but Even kisses it off him and Isak ends up giggling as Even tickles his sides and brushes his nose against Isak’s.

Isak loops his arms around Even’s neck and holds him there, kissing him until Even’s parents show up.

“I’ll call you every day,” Even promises, kissing Isak again. Quick little pecks over and over.

“You better. Don’t fall in love with some French baker guy while you’re out there.”

Even smiles. “I won’t.”

It’s torture to let Even go, but eventually, Isak does. He watches as the car drives away, waving miserably until it’s nothing but a dot on the horizon.

 

*

 

Even didn’t keep his promise.

He called a few times in the first week, sure. A couple of times in the second. Resorted to simple texts in the third week, and now, Isak’s barely even getting that.

And Isak knows that Even is busy; knows he has a lot to do and see and that he likes spending time with his family. But since when does it take a long time to text someone?

The days go by and Isak begins to wonder if he’d made the last month up. It had only been four weeks, after all, even if it felt like forever. Maybe he’d read too much into it. Maybe it had been a summer fling for Even. Something to keep him entertained before he had to crack down and work on his final school year.

Even doesn’t even pick up the phone when Isak leaves a voicemail about his mother, who has finally agreed to check into a psychiatric ward.

And so Isak gets pissed, and maybe one evening he has a bit to drink, and he sends some texts that he wouldn’t have sent if he’d been sober. Nothing too bad - if anything, he just comes off as vaguely desperate - but it’s enough to make him cringe when he wakes up the next morning.

Then his phone goes off.

 

**Even**

Hi Isak. Sorry I didn’t reply to your messages. I hope you’re ok and that your mum is doing well.

I’ve been thinking a lot. Some stuff has happened which I’ll explain when I’m back. But I don’t think this is going to work out, I’m really sorry. And I’m sorry I can’t be brave and do it in person.

Just know it’s nothing you did. It’s my own fault. I’m sorry. I hope we’ll be able to talk when I come back. Even

 

* * *

 

**Six Years Later**

Aged 23

 

It’s been six years since Isak received that text.

Six years since he moved out from his mum’s house and into a shared apartment with a guy who felt sorry for him on a night out. Six years since he refused to hear Even’s explanation and instead ignored him at every chance he got. Six years since Isak came out to his friends and six years since Even transferred schools.

Six years. They haven’t spoken in six whole years.

So why has Isak just received an invitation to Even and Sonja’s fucking wedding?

  


**Author's Note:**

> comments make me a happy bunny!!  
> part two coming soon <3


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